Mon Chéri
by KellyKMiller1005
Summary: The letter read: Selia (OC) I'm still in London and I'd love for you to come and stay a while. When you have the time, let me know, so I'm awaiting your arrival. I hope you're not getting yourself in trouble, and you will be able to join me this year, despite the ones prior. Love, Your One and Only Brother Trouble? If only that word was excluded from her mental dictionary.
1. Prologue

"She ran. She was running...running from them. Running from bright lights. She was in a daze, blindly sprinting, bright illuminating lights, allowing her to see her shadow, despite the time, hearing the rustle of the trees and listening to the twigs break under her bare feet, at the crack of dawn. Yet, she was shivering from the cold, teeth chattering all on their own accord. It couldn't have been helped, she was left in her bodices and underskirt and had been stripped of her dress. Were they still chasing her? She didn't know. She had escaped from a place, like a warehouse of some sort, she recalled. And there was this smell, a rancid scent, that even though she was surrounded by thorough wilderness, it was like she could presently inhale it while she sneaked in gasps of air. And it... Smelled like, sitting blood; all dried up, all evaporated—her blood.

She felt the need to stop and take a breath from running but couldn't. She happened to come to a fallen, uprooted tree, and from stretching to go over it, she then realized the large, open gash at her right rib. Within a split second, her blood curdling scream shattered the layered blanket of silence she'd made this whole duration of time. She instinctively used her hands to cover her mouth suddenly, attempting to tame the urges of yelping. She decided to go around the thicket instead, leaving her, staggering and swaying in her perpetual pain. Feet emerging from consecutive, muddy gaps, from several uprooted trees. One hand stapled to her side and the other moving the lone, lingering limbs of trees from her face, and peripheral vision.

Her pursuer's position unknown. Her own? She wasn't so sure herself.

Then there was an immense rustle in the meadow that hugged the adjacent tree, the tree she was going toward to lean on, the pain in her rib-cage, stunting her from proceeding, deterring her unable to jog, much less, walk. The trees thin out, she realized, beyond her lethargic state, but she is dizzy, she is in despair, and she's freezing, and because of the circumstances, instead of leaning there, she then flops down on it, slipping on the slimy moss beneath her. She hits her head, and in correspondence, an animal rushes out of the meadow. Her shoulder pierced, with something beyond her knowledge; nothing more concerning than the pain, consequently because she was determined to keep her palm over her rib. But this time she didn't bawl, or shout, but she did cry. She whimpered in the mud and rolled into a ball, in demand of the moment. She heaved heavily, and her heart was beating ever so loudly, yet, gradually after the moaning from the depths of her throat died down, her mouth dried and just then she heard the faint rush of water. And lights circling the area. With a thought that lingered in the rear of her mind, oddly concerning was the scenery she had thought she'd been running from this whole time.

It was almost identical...Was it possible that she wasn't even progressing in her plan of escape? She frantically stands up once more, a little more relaxed, if that was even possible and with that, unbeknownst to her, the pursuer was right there, and hesitation was no problem for him as the rusty, metallic scented knife skillfully sliced her throat from behind.


	2. Chapter 1- Drive

London... My home and my burden. Yet, my life and my cup of freshly brewed chai tea. Something that happens to come with me everywhere I go in this bloody place. At midnight hour the letter said to come. Whatever could be going on at this time, at twilight? Some outing, some treaty, some kind of trade? London was in for things of that sort.

With only telling the cab driver, the location I wanted to go, between the man and I, no one exchanged words. It was as soundless as being in a padded room, which separated the man from myself. But, I could only ponder, in the cab rolling my eyes, at the merely quiet atmosphere. Only the sounds of the car driving over the cobblestone, as well as the dirt and concrete roads, which were entirely heard. A scratched record of whispers it was, and at moments I swore I'd heard screams, lacing with the falling rain. Or simply not overthinking it, it was the scattering and chatters of the outside crowd.

Conspicuously hearing consecutive sirens off in the distance, a lot of killings and kidnappings has been happening lately, it's very simple to imagine yourself in a situation as such, I thought, contemplating on the life I was living. What if I was a victim… Who would come for me? ...Brother? I am sure the police would not shed a tear for me, it's all about dignity and pride these days. Plus, for knowing what I am, exists, adds more to my bucket of problems. I sighed, my happiness escaping unbeknownst to me, that is if I had any to begin with.

With a crumpled letter in my sweater's pocket, which the address was on, not seeming oblivious to the chilly temperature, I was actually shivering from what I recalled about what the letter had said. I look out the rainy cab window, as I adjusted my glasses on the bridge of my nose. This place, unlike any other I've been to, it was heavily populated. Bustling streets, having the cab stuck in traffic a couple times. At a place called, _Mon Che_ ri the letter said to go to.

There had only been one person that really cared for me. And that was- the car came to an abrupt halt. "We're here," the cab driver announced nonchalantly, obviously scowling and murmuring under his breath. Feeling a slight tilt, I peered out the window in surprise, it seems that the driver didn't mind the fact that he drove the car up a sidewalk, instead of parking professionally. I gasped, suddenly, and unwillingly paid him his fare, still not making any eye contact with me. Well... at least he couldn't see my exasperated, fake smile, at his poor assistance. I was left unpacking my things from the trunk-alone.

 _Clearly the cab driver wasn't from around here, everyone was so loud and jolly, yet he was so quiet and independent._ He was uncanny, yes, and I would not want him to anymore be a part of my concern, I thought as I dismissed him from my mind. As the taxi drove off I felt anxious, as well as a surge of hope, of letting go of my burden. I don't really know what it is, to be honest, but I knew it was there. I took out the letter and read the name again. Turning around on my heel, I looked at the building, then consecutively looking back at the paper then restaurant... Are you sure Sebastian? I mentally deadpanned.


End file.
